


Worry

by gimmefire



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-08-15
Packaged: 2018-02-13 08:17:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2143629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gimmefire/pseuds/gimmefire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Germany 2014. "Felipe, are you okay?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worry

**Author's Note:**

> Genfic with some ~implication~, but ship it if you like, I'm not the boss of you.

_Felipeareyouokay?_

One strung together, almost garbled word. He remembers the flip, the slide, the trail of sparks, and watching Felipe's car finally thud back to Earth, skid block side down. He remembers the near panic in his own voice, the way his heart hammered in his ears and maybe, just maybe, drowning out Felipe's reply. He remembers repeating himself, more clearly the second time, and still nothing. The fear swells within him and he takes a moment to calm himself before he asks Felipe to radio him back.

It isn't as though his drivers had never been in accidents before. It isn't as though the cars aren't safer than they've ever been.

But still. It never gets easier.

He doesn't see Felipe in the flesh - the fully intact but fairly resigned flesh - until the team debrief. Rob, at the far end of the table, mentions Felipe's slow radio response with a hint of admonishment in his tone, and Andrew lifts his eyes from his computer screen to look at his driver beside him, finding that Felipe is already looking his way. The Brazilian smiles thinly at him.

At the end of the debrief, amid the scrape of chairs and murmured conversation, Andrew feels a hand on his arm. Felipe waits as most of the other engineers leave the room, waving Rob away when he looks over to them on his way out.

_Wonder if he's batted his eyelashes at Rob to get out of trouble in the past,_ Andrew thinks, watching his predecessor disappear down the stairs. He's heard things about Felipe. And Rob. Like most of the rest of this paddock. It's none of his business, but still the thought occurs to him, in an idle sort of way.

Once he's satisfied that they have enough privacy, Felipe leans against the table and offers him a slightly pained smile. "You know, I hope you don't ask if I am okay this season another time!" he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. "Is part of the sport, for sure, but I don't want these things for me, for the team."

"Well, that's good to know!" Andrew teases, tucking his folder under his arm. "I'm not too keen on them either…"

Felipe glances over as the last couple of people leave before returning his attention to his race engineer, looking up at him with those big dark eyes. His voice is softer than before. "I don't want to hear you worry, you know?"

The sincerity in Felipe's gaze makes Andrew feel a touch guilty for his thought about the possible batting of eyelashes earlier, however idle it was. He chuckles, appreciating the concern more than he'll show. "Hurry up and answer me next time, okay?"

Felipe's face breaks with a warm grin and he pushes away from the table. "Ah, we don't have a next time, I tell you!" He slings an arm around Andrew and squeezes his shoulder tightly, as tactile and affectionate as ever. "Next time will be perfect, one hundred percent!"

He hadn't truly known they were there, but Andrew feels the the last remaining knots of tension that had sat in his stomach since the first lap undo and ease, melting away into nothing. It's true that it never gets easier, but next time will, at the very least, be better. Felipe is okay. And he gives a decent hug, too.


End file.
